Author: admin

He sees the neighbor’s kid walk by carrying something big under his arm. He yells out “Hey boy, whatcha got there?” Boy yells back “Roll of chicken wire.” Old man says “What you gonna do with that?” Boy says “Gonna catch some chickens.” Old man yells “You damn fool, you can’t catch chickens with chicken wire!” Boy just laughs and keeps walking. That evening at sunset the boy comes walking by and to the old man’s surprise he is dragging behind him the chicken wire with about 30 chickens caught in it.

Same time next morning the old man is out watching the sun rise and he sees the boy walk by carrying something kind of round in his hand. Old man yells out “Hey boy, whatcha got there?” Boy yells back “Roll of duck tape.” Old man says “What you gonna do with that?” Boy says back “Gonna catch me some ducks.” Old man yells back, “You damn fool, you can’t catch ducks with duck tape!” Boy just laughs and keeps walking. That night around sunset the boy walks by coming home and to the old man’s amazement he is trailing behind him the unrolled roll of duck tape with about 35 ducks caught in it. Same time next morning the old man sees the boy walking by carrying what looks like a long reed with something fuzzy on the end. Old man says “Hey boy, whatcha got there?” Boy says “It’s a pussy willow.” Old man says “Wait up … I’ll get my hat.”

Little Johnny was in class and the teacher announced that they were going to try something different to help everyone get to know each other a little better and to help with their spelling. She explained: “I want you to stand up and give us the occupation of your father, spell it, and say one thing he would give us all if he was here today.” The first student raised her hand to volunteer.

Marcy,” the teacher said. “You may go first.” Marcy replied: “My father is a banker. B-A-N-K-E-R and if he was here today, he would give us all a shiny new penny.” The teacher said: “Very nice, Marcy, who wants to go next?” Kevin stood up and announced: “My father is a baker. B-A-K-E-R and if he was here today, he would give us all a freshly-baked cookie.”

“Very good,” the teacher told Kevin. Jeff was next, and he said: My father is an accountant. A-K, no wait, A-C-K, no…” Before he could attempt to spell it once more, the teacher cut him off and told him to sit back down and to think about it for a while. When he thought he knew how to spell it, he could stand back up and try again. Little Johnny raised his hand in excitement hoping to be acknowledged by the teacher. The teacher called on little Johnny to go next. Johnny said: “My father is a bookie. B-O-O-K-I-E and if he was here today, he would give us all 20:1 odds Jeff will never be able to spell “accountant.”

TWO OLD MEN DECIDE THEY ARE CLOSE TO THEIR LAST DAYS AND DECIDE TO HAVE A LAST NIGHT ON THE TOWN. AFTER A FEW DRINKS, THEY END UP AT THE LOCAL BROTHEL THE MADAM TAKES ONE LOOK AT THE TWO OLD GEEZERS AND WHISPERS TO HER MANAGER, “GO UP TO THE FIRST TWO BEDROOMS AND PUT AN INFLATED DOLL IN EACH BED. THESE TWO ARE SO OLD AND DRUNK, I’M NOT WASTING TWO OF MY GIRLS ON THEM. THEY WON’T KNOW THE DIFFERENCE.’

THE TWO OLD MEN GO UPSTAIRS AND TAKE CARE OF THEIR BUSINESS.
AS THEY ARE WALKING HOME THE FIRST MAN SAYS, ‘YOU KNOW, I THINK MY GIRL WAS DEAD!’
‘DEAD?’ SAYS HIS FRIEND, ‘WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?’
‘WELL, SHE NEVER MOVED OR MADE A SOUND ALL THE TIME I WAS LOVING HER.’

HIS FRIEND SAYS, ‘COULD BE WORSE, I THINK MINE WAS A WITCH.’
‘A WITCH ??. . WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU SAY THAT?’
‘WELL, I WAS MAKING LOVE TO HER,
KISSING HER ON THE NECK, AND I GAVE HER A LITTLE BITE,
THEN SHE FARTED, FLEW OUT THE WINDOW AND TOOK MY TEETH WITH HER !!!

Upon hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Katie went straight to her grandparent’s house to visit her 95 year-old grandmother and comfort her. When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, “He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning.”

Horrified, Katie told her grandmother that 2 people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble. “Oh no, my dear,” replied granny. “Many years ago, realizing our Katie told her grandmother that 2 people nearly 100 years old having s*x would surely be asking for trouble. “Oh no, my dear,” replied granny. “Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the Ding and out on the Dong.” She paused to wipe away a tear, and continued, “He’d still be alive if the ice cream truck hadn’t come along. “If you do not laugh at this, then you are seriously depressed.

I couldn’t refuse. My father had made it clear. “You marry Robert, Alexis,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Or you can figure out your own living arrangements.” In a sense, Robert was my prince charming. Our family had a bakery, which was losing customers because we had no gluten-free options on the menu. “We will continue to bake what we know,” my father insisted. Our marriage was definitely an arranged one. Robert’s demeanor was cold, and he refused to let me get to know him properly. I don’t know how my father arranged our connection. Our wedding was a spectacle of Robert’s affluence nothing short of extravagant. Robert’s wedding planner had thought of everything. My wedding dress was a custom piece that he commissioned for me. But even through our wedding planning, we barely spoke. “I’m looking forward to being married,” he admitted one evening, a few days before the wedding. “But I don’t know what I’m doing,” he added. That was the closest Robert had gotten to letting me in. wo days after our wedding, I moved into our new home. “Come, I’ll show you around,” Robert said. He took me around our home, a mansion boasting luxuries I’d never imagined before: sprawling golf courses, a shimmering swimming pool, and a fleet of staff at our beck and call. “It’s beautiful,”

I said when we got to the kitchen. “Everything is beautiful.” “Now, Alexis, this house belongs to you too,” he declared with a hint of pride. I smiled at the stranger standing in front of me. Maybe we were going to make something of our marriage. But one thing, Alexis,” he said. “There’s one rule. The attic. Never go in there.” I nodded at Robert. I couldn’t fathom why I wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the house. But I also recognized that I didn’t know my husband well enough yet. So, I had to obey. A few days later, Robert went to a meeting, leaving me alone in our massive home. Driven by curiosity stronger than any warning, I found myself ascending the stairs to the attic. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. A quick in and out, I thought to myself. Pushing the door open, I was met with a sight that sent me to my knees, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t know why I was crying. I didn’t know why I felt confusion and relief at the same time. The attic, dimly lit, seemed to be a vault of my husband’s hidden memories. Childhood toys lay scattered, each carrying untold stories. Old postcards and photographs of Robert’s life before me. Among the relics were letters from a young boy to his father, a soldier away at war. “How dare you come in here? Now, I have to change the locks in my own home because my wife does not respect my requests?” Robert’s face turned red with rage. “I just want to understand,” I stammered. “I just want to know you, Robert.” Slowly, his rage dissolved, and he seemed to see me as a companion in his world, instead of the intruder he had made me out to be. “Alexis,” he said, “Come, let’s sit.” Robert led me to the living room. “My father was a stern man. He was a soldier and he believed in keeping emotions locked away. These are the only things I have of a time when I felt loved,” he confessed. My heart caught on his every word as his voice broke. What followed was a revelation of his soul. Stories of a lonely childhood, of a boy yearning for his father’s approval, unfolded in our home. In those vulnerable moments, I didn’t see the distant, cold man I had married but a boy who had never stopped seeking love and acceptance. He just didn’t know how to go about it. In those few hours, things changed. Robert started letting me in. And now, years later, our home is filled with the cries and laughter of our daughter, April. through our daughter, Robert healed. He healed for himself, and for our daughter. We’ve packed away everything from the attic, so it is no longer a shrine to Robert’s past but is now my little reading nook.

My life was practically perfect because of my efforts and finances, yet my parents decided they were worried about me. Out of the blue, they said I was living half a life because—gasp—I was single. Every chat with them turned into something like: “Mom, I closed another deal and bought a house!” I would announce proudly. “That’s nice, honey. But why do you even need that empty house? With no family to live there and no baby’s feet stomping on the floor…” Mom would reply, dismissing me entirely. No achievement mattered to them unless I had someone to share it with. And my parents weren’t the only ones. Every family gathering was the same. I would get ambushed by aunts and uncles just so they could ask when I was getting married. Other common comments included: Have you found someone yet? You aren’t getting any younger, Richard. Why are you wasting your life? And so on, so on… For the most part, I could take all that criticism and forget about it, but something that arrived in the mail gave me a brilliant idea. My parents’ 40th anniversary was around the corner, and of course, they included a +1 on my invitation. I dreaded the thought of another night of sympathetic glances and matchmaking attempts. However, I could show up with a girlfriend. She didn’t need to be real, though. So, I called Helen, my old childhood friend, who was also close to the family. I figured she’d be down for a bit of play-acting.

I met her at a bar, and after buying us some beers, I started, “Hey, so I have this crazy idea…” Helen was down for the plan before I could even finish. Except, she had one rule: “I’m totally your fake date, but you owe me a dance. And not just some half-assed sway. I mean an actual dance.” “Deal,” I said, clinking our glasses. The anniversary party was in full swing when we showed up, holding hands. I saw my parents as soon as we walked in. They must have been waiting for me. “Is this some kind of joke?” Mom asked, confusion written all over her face. “Nope, Helen and I are a thing now,” I said, shrugging. And the rest of the night was a huge blast. Helen was funnier and more interesting than I remembered from our younger days. I kept my promise, twirling her around the dance floor. But things changed between us when a “couple’s challenge” was announced. I didn’t want to play, but Mom pushed us to. Atfirst, it was all fun and games just to test how couples could work together. But the trust exercise was different. I had to put on a blindfold and let Helen guide me through an obstacle course. I tripped at one point, so she wrapped her arm around my waist, and I put mine over her shoulders for support. Suddenly, the moment was electric. Her voice sounded different—breathier? Or was that me? Was the darkness tricking us? Well, it wasn’t dark for her, so maybe I was the only one feeling this way. But when I tripped again, Helen tightened her hold some more and all I felt were…butterflies. We finished the obstacle course in second place, and when I saw her smile after removing my blindfold. I couldn’t focus on anything else but her face and how my heart was beating faster than ever. After the party, we took a walk on a nearby beach, which used to be our old hangout spot. The atmosphere was different with the moon, the waves, and our easy conversation. Helen wasn’t the little girl from my childhood anymore. She was so much more. A woman who could bring any man to his knees. I certainly felt weak walking next to her, so I stopped and faced her. It felt almost natural for our faces to close the distance in that moment. Long story short, we started seeing each other for real, and almost a year later, I walked into my family’s house without my fake girlfriend—she was my very real fiancée now. Helen and I got married in a big ceremony. But you know what my mom said in my ear during our mother-son dance? “You better give me a grandchild soon. Who knows how long I have left? ”I shook my head and laughed, knowing that she and Dad would always push for more. But between you and me, I had already told Helen we were going to start trying for a baby that same night.

He accused me of not being a good enough mother because I worked too much — although I worked from home. Ellie was always around me, except she when was at school. “You’re always behind that computer screen. Do you even give Ellie enough attention? It doesn’t seem like it. She’s always alone when I come home from work.” At first, I used to retaliate. I would speak my feelings to Nathan. But eventually, I just tired of fighting with him. “Do what you want, ”I said one evening as I went to put Ellie to bed. Things took a turn when Nathan suddenly became more tolerable. He was nice. At first I attributed it to him getting a new job offer in another city. I didn’t mind the move. I could work from anywhere, and Ellie was only in the first grade. “It’s a new start,” Nathan said, helping me box up our lives. We moved, hoping for that fresh start — and for things to get better between us. Nathan enrolled Ellie in a new school that he had researched in the weeks leading to the big move. He seemed to have everything in order.

“I’m serious about this move, honey,” he said, giving Ellie an juice box. “This is going to be great.” But a few weeks after Ellie started at school, she started coming home upset, refusing to tell me why. Then, one day, I found her crying in her room. “Honey, what happened?” I asked, worried. “I don’t want Miss Allen to be my mother! I want you to be my mother!” Ellie sobbed. A chill ran through me. Miss Allen was Ellie’s teacher. “Why would she become your mother?” I asked. Ellie looked at me with large tears dropping from her face. She shook her head. “Honey, tell me,” I pressed. My daughter sighed deeply, as if the weight of the entire world rested on her little shoulders. “Yesterday, when Dad picked me from school, Miss Allen told me to wait by the door while she spoke to Dad. I didn’t hear everything, but I did hear her saying that she’ll be a better mom to me… Dad laughed when she said that.” The floor might as well have fallen away from beneath me. The accusations, the move, the sudden niceness — it all clicked into a horrifying picture. My husband was having an affair. That evening, after making sure that Ellie was asleep, I poured Nathan a drink. He accepted it with a smile, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. “So,” I began. “Miss Allen seems really good with Ellie.” “Really?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “I knew Ellie liked her…” “Enough for Miss Allen to be her new mom?” I asked. “What’s going on, and don’t you dare lie to me.” Nathan’s face drained of color, guilt written all over him. His confession poured out, officially ruining our marriage. He had been having an affair before we moved, but the woman wanted more from him. So, he broke it off when the new job opportunity came up. But it hadn’t taken him long — he and Miss Allen had been seeing each other for two weeks before Ellie overheard their conversation. The next day, when I dropped Ellie off at school, I confronted Miss Allen about the affair. She denied everything. I transferred Ellie to another school. She needed to be protected and cherished, not be caught in the middle of her father’s extramarital affairs. A divorce was inevitable, and I found that while it was painful, I was relieved. Nathan had destroyed us a long time ago, it was just time to end our marriage officially. We are a few months into the divorce and Ellie is my focus — with constant reassurance that she is loved unconditionally. She’s forgotten about Miss Allen, and loves her new teacher. Nathan is free to come and go as he pleases with Ellie, as she is the most important factor in our lives.

I found a note on the kitchen counter: I’m doing this for us. Remember that I love you. That was it. No explanations, no goodbyes. Daniel vanished, leaving me and our daughter behind. Weeks turned into months, and eventually a year later divorce papers arrived out of the blue. Daniel gave me everything, without any contesting. His lawyer said that he wanted Abby and I to have everything. It was as if he wanted to erase his existence from our lives. About a year after my divorce, Abby wanted to go away to summer camp. “Please, Mommy!” she said, her eyes wide with excitement. “All my friends are going!” I gave in. The child had been living with the pain of her absent father, just as I had. She needed some joy. With two free weeks, I decided to visit my best friend, Emily. She lived two cities away, and was always ready to house me when I needed an escape. “Just drive on down,” Emily said happily into the phone. “We’ll eat our hearts away and drink every bottle of wine I have.” An escape was exactly what I needed. On my second day at Emily’s, I left her to work, while I took a walk to the store — eager to satisfy my bagel cravings. It was like seeing a ghost. There, in a little supermarket, I saw him — or at least, I thought I did. Daniel, with another woman and a child — a little boy, younger than Abby. They looked like a perfect little family.

I held onto the package of bagels tightly. I blinked a few times, wondering if I was losing my mind. But no, there he was. Standing right in front of me, holding onto the woman’s hand. “Daniel! How dare you?”I exclaimed, my voice carrying around the store. The man turned and looked at me, confusion all over his face. A face that I once knew so well. “Honey, who is she?” the woman asked. “Daniel, don’t you dare pretend not to know me,” I hissed. “You abandoned your family, and now you’re here playing house with someone else?” “I have no idea who you are,” he said. “Daniel, come on,” I said. “So, you won’t remember Abby either?” Then, he looked at me, his eyes steady. “You must be Celia. My name is Mark, Daniel’s twin brother.” I was floored. I didn’t know anything about a twin brother. But apparently they were separated when their parents divorced. Daniel chose to leave with his mother. He wasn’t close to his father. “Come, walk with us,” Mark said, leading the way out of the store. Mark’s wife and son walked up ahead, eating fresh donuts from the supermarket, while Mark and I trailed behind them. “Have you seen him?” I asked. Mark nodded. “Have you seen him?” I asked. “He’s here. Look, he was in deep trouble, the debt was piling up, and his business failing. He thought that disappearing was the only way to protect you and Abby. And if everything was in your name after the divorce, then nothing could be seized.” “Why couldn’t he just tell me that?” I asked, a fresh set of pain and confusion settling in. Turns out that Daniel was ashamed. Apparently he didn’t want to drag his family down with him. But by vanishing, he had done just that. Abby and I had been weighed down by his abandonment. Mark gave me Daniel’s address, suggesting that I confront him for the answers I needed. And so, I did. Our reunion was nothing like I had imagined. Daniel was remorseful, tears streaming down his face as he begged for forgiveness. “I thought I was protecting you,” he sobbed. “I didn’t think that it would wreck you and Abby, too. Celia, can you forgive me?” Looking into his eyes, I saw the man I once loved, but too much had changed. The trust between us was nonexistent. “Daniel, I don’t think I can. And I don’t want to hurt Abby.” We parted ways, a mix of sadness and resignation hanging in the air. I went back home the next day, and awaited Abby’s return.

Don’t kids just say the funniest things? That is part of the beauty of having a child. Every day they come up with something new to say that makes you burst out laughing. 4-Year Old Calls 911 When your child is young, you teach them to call 911 for emergencies. It is a pretty important thing to learn and you hope your kid remembers during a true emergency. However, there are times kids have called 911 when it was not a true emergency at all.

There are plenty of occasions where you read about kids calling 911. Sometimes the operator is friendly and other times the child gets reprimanded for calling. This four-year-old boy, Johnny, called because he truly was in what seemed to be an emergency for him: not understanding his math homework. This was an emergency in his mind! He couldn’t remember how to subtract numbers and he was struggling. Luckily, the operator was kind and understanding and even helped him figure out his homework. During their call, you can hear his mom come in and asked him who he is talking to. He then explains innocently that he called the police because that’s what his mom told him if he needed help with something. After realizing what her son had done, she exclaims that what she taught him didn’t mean the police and then the audio ends.

My mom who was instrumental in everything from my teenage years to my wedding, decided that despite the millions of men around, she just had to have my husband. Here’s what happened: I’ve been happily married to Matt for eight years — or so I thought. We have two daughters and live a pretty relaxed family life. Now, my mom, Mona, lives about twenty minutes away. I just loved the idea of having her so close because, growing up, it had always been the two of us. Mom’s a single lady who is all about looking much younger than she is. I’ll credit her skincare routine because she does not look her age at all. For the longest time, she’s just wanted to find love and settle down. I don’t blame her because my father left us when I was about three years old, So, naturally, Mom isn’t the babysitting type. When my kids were born, she didn’t want to spend time with them. She said she would be the best grandmother come Christmas and their birthdays, but she wasn’t ready to do the dirty diapers. Which is fair — Matt and I wanted these babies, so it was up to us to do everything. “I’ll do school drop-offs and pick-ups when they’re older, Jess,” Mom used to tell me. But here’s the thing. Mom’s been coming over often, claiming she wants to help with the kids during the summer holidays while Matt and I work. Matt works from home as a medical writer, and I’m a paralegal. When Mom said she wanted to be around the kids,

I thought it would be a win-win situation — the kids would be entertained, and Matt wouldn’t be bothered by them while working. So, I’d come home every day, and while I cooked, Mom would sit at the counter and tell me what she and the kids got up to that day. But for weeks, all she would say to me was how lazy Matt was. “He sits behind his computer for hours. And then, when he’s not doing that, he’s watching TV. He doesn’t even come to check on the kids and me, to see if we’re okay or if he can join in.” “Mom, that’s just how he works. He takes a break in between the writing,” I said. “No, it’s more. He’s lousy. You should leave him, Jess.” I continued to brush it off, thinking she was just a nag — Mom had high opinions about everything from who I dated in school to the laundry detergents I bought. Fast forward to last week. My friend Sim invited me for coffee during our lunch break. We were restless from sitting behind our desks, so it was a welcome treat. I got to the café, while Sim popped into the little supermarket to get some things for her home. I looked through the window of the café, trying to scout whether we should sit inside or out, and what did I see? Oh, just Matt holding my Mom’s hand on the table and stroking her hair with his other hand. I just stood there like a deer in headlights, connecting numerous dots in my head. I took a photo, went into the supermarket to find Sim, and told her that something had come up and I needed to return to the office. I sat at my desk, unable to believe that my own mother and husband would pull such a horrible stunt. I also wondered where they had left my girls. When I got home that evening, Mom happily hummed to herself in the kitchen while starting dinner. I put the kettle on and sat down, scrolling through my phone when she began her rant. “Jess, have you thought more about what I said? You know, leaving Matt?” “Yes. I have. And I’ve decided to go ahead with it. I’ve had my eye on a guy from work as well. Maybe after this, I can get to know him,” I said, lying through my teeth. Mom was practically giddy. She danced around the stove and counter, adding ingredients to the pot. “Mom, look here,” I said, showing her the photo I took of her and Matt. Her face paled, and her eyes widened. called Matt in and showed him the photo — he had the same expression. “You were following me?” he asked defensively. I gave him a dirty look, which seemed to unlock something in him because the truth poured out. He said that they were having an affair, but it was true love. “He’s right, Jessie,” Mom said. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.” Anyway, I took a deep breath and stormed upstairs to where the girls were playing with their dollhouse. I packed our clothes and drove to Sim’s place, where I explained what had really happened that day. Now, I’m sitting here, eating a slice of pie while Sim puts the girls to bed. I’m thinking about sending out the photo to our family group chat. I won’t be the only one hurt and embarrassed by this entire situation. Tomorrow, Sim promised that she will draft the divorce documents. “Milk him for everything he has,” she said. And I will. If you were in my shoes, what would you do? Here’s another story: Cynthia is devastated when she visits her mother and discovers she’s dating her ex-boyfriend, John. Cynthia is convinced that John hasn’t left his dark past behind him and sets out to prove that he’s only interested in one thing: her mother’s money.